Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (67 page)

“Same here,” he answered. “From your expression, I'd say you have the world by the tail.”

“I had an especially good week. You look as if you're doing better.”

“I'm working on it.”

“But something's bothering you.”

Had she always been this perceptive?

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Jamie Conroe's fruit stand was hit again, worse than ever, and someone wrote a get-out message on the canopy she uses for shade.”

“Cripes. What can be done?”

“She's working on a solution. I told her to call if I can do anything to help.” Brad didn't add that Zack had also gotten involved.

“I'm going over there tomorrow to...well, for girl stuff,” she said with a smile. “I'll talk with her, too.”

“Crap, I shouldn't have mentioned it. You deal with problems all week and deserve a chance to relax.”

“That doesn't mean I stop caring about my friends.”

“Of course not, but Zack is right about people needing a place to get a reprieve from real life.”

She laughed, a low musical note he enjoyed hearing. “It's nice that you can see some point to Mar Vista.”

“Give me a break,” he protested.

“Okay, okay. I'm just having fun. You picking me up was a nice surprise. I didn't figure on seeing you until dinner.”

“What about dinner?”

“Zack sent me a text saying he hoped we could all eat at the Grotto at eight. Didn't you know?”

That must be what Zack had scribbled on the note he'd left on the kitchen counter. Brad hadn't been entirely sure what it said. Maybe he shouldn't go. Kim and Zack ought to have privacy, or at least what passed for it in a public restaurant.

“I should probably stay home,” he suggested. “That would give the two of you a chance to catch up with each other.”

“No way,” Kim protested. “I come up here partly to visit old friends, and not just one of them. If you don't go, I won't, either.”

Kim also had a graceful way of including everybody, and he had to admit it was a more appealing prospect than eating alone.

* * *

A
T
FIVE
O
'
CLOCK
, Zack dragged himself in from the golf course. He'd played not one, but two rounds with guests—one in the morning, and another in the afternoon. Now that he wasn't an employed manager of a resort, some folks figured he was a man of leisure.

“Hi, Trudy,” he said as he came into the office and slumped into a chair.

She regarded him sympathetically. “Maybe we should make a schedule,” she suggested tentatively. “We could block out specific periods when you're free to spend time with guests.”

“Good idea.”

“It will ease up soon,” she said. “Right now it's a novelty.”

Zack knew that, and since he'd invited the interest of his various friends and acquaintances in his future resort for years, he could hardly complain that they were excited by its realization.

“There's another possibility,” Trudy said. “Have you thought of hiring a second golf pro to go out with guests when they want someone and you're busy?”

“Good idea. You know, Trudy, it's obvious you think like a resort manager. I've thought about making you an operations supervisor or something of the kind, but don't know if you're interested now that you're starting a family.”

Trudy's eyes opened wide. “I would, though there are a number of things we'd have to discuss first. But I thought you were determined to do it all yourself.”

“I guess I was, but...things change.”

Yes, things change, including him, he thought. Over the past weeks, Zack had been shifting his way of handling resort matters. He still wasn't entirely sure why, but the look in Trudy's eyes when he brought up this latest idea suggested he was on the right track.

“There's a note from Brad on your desk. He left it there this morning.”

Lord, that was how he and his brother had to communicate now: exchanging notes. He
had
to slow down enough to spend time with Brad, though not while Kim was here—instead, he'd encourage the two of them to spend it together.

On his desk was a sealed envelope with his name printed in the neat block letters Brad used, much more respectable than his own scribbles. He opened the letter and his blood began to boil.

Damn. Damn.
Damn.

He charged out of his office.

Trudy was startled. “Something wrong, boss?”

“Tell you later,” he snapped as he strode through the door and dived into his SUV.

Damn that woman. He'd
been
at the fruit stand that morning; it couldn't have been more than an hour after she'd finished cleaning up the latest mess from the vandals. Why the hell hadn't she told him?

It was tempting to gun the accelerator, but he held to the resort speed limit until he squealed to a stop by the fruit stand.

Dammit.

Jamie's truck was gone.

He headed for her house. Sure enough, there was her truck. He stomped up the steps to pound on the front door.

Faint footsteps came from inside, and the door opened after a pause. “Good grief, Zack,” Jamie said. “Is the house on fire or something?”

“Why didn't you tell me the stand got trashed?”

Jamie shrugged. “It wasn't your problem in the first place. I'm taking care of it.”

“Not my problem? Why in hell wouldn't you think I'd care for any other reason, if only as a neighbor? And we've definitely become closer than that.”

Her lips thinned. “I don't need your concern. It's very nice and manly of you, but it's up to me to protect my own business. You don't need to worry—I'm not sleeping at the trailer anymore, and this time I mean it.”

The words were strangely disappointing, but he couldn't stop to analyze it at the moment.

“Then what
are
you going to do?” he demanded.

“What I should have done in the first place. Whoever's involved must have figured out I was watching. So I've set up a couple of security cameras. They have motion sensors and will record whatever happens. Whatever evidence I gather, I'll pass on to the sheriff.”

It was a sensible idea, though he had another concern. “What about here at the house? The jerk who's doing this might not stop at the fruit stand.”

“I'm perfectly all right in my own home,” she said. “Don't get any ideas—you are
not
staying with me.”

Her face was angry and so stubborn he couldn't believe it. “Why are you so hell-bent on doing this by yourself?”

“It's
my
business.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Look, it's about self-respect and being able to stand on my own two feet. There's enough victim mentality in the world, people who think they have to rely on someone else to come along and fix things. I'm not going to do it anymore and I'm not going to let anyone push me around.”

Zack ran his fingers through his hair, tense with the frustration Jamie always seemed to provoke. He supposed her attitude was healthy enough—in fact, it sounded like rhetoric from a consciousness-raising seminar. The concept was fine, but she was carrying it to a ridiculous length. No one could do everything completely on their own.

He tried to calm down. “Look, Jamie. I'm not asking you to become a doormat. I'm just saying that whoever is doing this isn't very...nice.”

“Wow,” she interjected. “I wouldn't have known that if you hadn't come along to tell me.”

“Quit trying to sidetrack the issue,” he retorted. “This is a bad person and
no one
should have to stand up to that alone.”

“What if someone was targeting your resort?”

“That's different.”

“Because you're a man?”

Okay, she had him there. But it wasn't the same for men and women, if only because some bad people targeted a woman, figuring she was more vulnerable. Besides, if someone was trying to hurt the resort, he wouldn't hesitate to bring in the police or security guards...okay, she was doing that, too...but it still wasn't the same.

“This isn't just nasty-minded vandalism,” he said, ignoring the male-female issue. “Brad says someone spray-painted a get-out-of-Dodge-type message on the canopy.”

“Crap, I hoped he wouldn't mention that.”

“I haven't seen him all day, but he wrote a very detailed note. I just found it on my desk or I would have hauled my ass over here earlier.”

She cocked her head and gave a strained grin. “Do you talk like that to your refined guests?”

“If they were doing what you are, I might.”

“And they would probably say the same thing I am. Keep your nose
and
your ass out of my business.”

Zack barely restrained himself from kissing the obstinate expression from Jamie's face—then he
would
be guilty of using a male ploy to influence the situation. But how could he make her see sense? It scared him to think that whoever was vandalizing the fruit stand could go after the house...or Jamie. She needed someone with her.

“You'd better go home and change,” she advised. “We've got a pretend dinner date in a few hours and no one's going to buy it, least of all Kim and Brad, if you don't play the part. Try being suave, sophisticated and romantic, instead of bullheaded and angry.”

“Me bullheaded? That's the pot calling the kettle black.”

Some of the tension was easing between them, but Zack wasn't about to forget the main issue. They'd take it up again, after their dinner with Brad and Kim.

“I'll be here shortly after seven-thirty.”

“I'll be ready.”

He drove away, torn between conflicting emotions, among them a surprising disappointment that they wouldn't be sleeping in that hideous blue trailer together another night. The enforced intimacy had turned into something quite pleasurable. And he'd enjoyed being with Jamie, even
before
spending the night in the same bed.

They could be friends if she didn't have so many sharp edges. Then again, she might say he had just as many edges after the way he'd handled their land dispute.

The land dispute.

He hadn't found the time to give
that
issue the thought it needed. There had to be a solution that worked for both of them.

* * *

J
AMIE
WATCHED
Z
ACK
'
S
vehicle disappear down her long driveway. She didn't like the way his words had made her feel, or the reminder that Granddad's house was isolated. Her dad had even mentioned the fact. It had never bothered her before. Upon first moving in she'd considered a security system, but quickly dismissed the need; now she had to admit to wishing she had one. But there was no way she'd admit that to Zack, who obviously didn't have a clue how important it was for her to stay independent.

She refused to explain her marriage or the anger with herself for taking so long to divorce Tim.

Somewhere inside, she'd known better. Tim's attempts to tear down her confidence were so typical. Why hadn't she seen that, instead of making excuses for him? While violence hadn't dominated their relationship, she should have left the first time he twisted her arm. But she hadn't. She'd stayed and become more and more overwhelmed.

It gave her a load of sympathy for women in similar circumstances. Walking out was tough. Thank heaven she hadn't also had children to consider.

One thing she was sure of: she never wanted to feel so powerless again. If it took being stubborn and determined to take care of things by herself without help, then so be it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

J
AMIE
LOCKED
THE
front door and checked the windows and other doors before heading to the bedroom. It wasn't paranoia; it was simply good sense, something everyone should practice.
Common
sense. Being independent didn't mean being reckless.

Now she had to get ready for dinner at a fancy restaurant.

After setting up the camera at the trailer, she'd thought about returning to Warrington to buy an appropriate outfit for the Sunfish Grotto. If it was as fancy as she'd heard, something casual wouldn't cut it. But a spate of customers had come and she'd finally decided it wasn't possible. The problem was that left only one possible gown for her to wear...the green one in the back of the closet. That dress was a reminder of her past life, and her old feelings of vulnerability.

She lifted her chin and firmed her spine. If she wasn't going to let an ex-husband overwhelm her, or a vandal, or even a sexy guy like Zack, she sure wouldn't let an
evening dress.

Deciding to give herself the full treatment, Jamie ran a bath in the deep, old-fashioned tub and added lilac bath salts. Only a few. She disliked heavy scents and used no products with fragrance otherwise. Who needed a dozen cheap perfumes in laundry soap and such? But she did enjoy a faint lilac scent on occasion, so she sank into the tub and closed her eyes with pleasure.

After a long soak, she washed her hair and let it dry while she painted her nails and smoothed silky cream over herself. That kind of pampering had been rare lately and it felt incredibly good, though it evoked a memory of Zack running his fingers over her skin and kissing her almost everywhere.... No, best to forget that.

She chose her sexiest black lingerie—lacy briefs and a bra that had always made her feel confident. Instead of panty hose, which she hated, she slipped on stockings with garters, then swept her hair back to fall in waves down her shoulders.

Now, the dress.

Fortunately, it wasn't the kind to get rumpled easily, so she slipped into it, half hoping it might not fit anymore. The soft fabric slipped easily down her hips and brushed her ankles. Stroking it smooth, she turned to the full-length mirror and stared at her reflection.

She couldn't recall why she'd bought the dress in the first place, but it brought out the auburn tints in her dark hair and made her eyes seem a deeper blue. The color complemented the light tan in her skin and hugged her figure in the right places, leaving bare shoulders and just the right amount of cleavage.

She looked good. Her ex-husband and the past be damned. Whenever she had a chance to wear this dress in the future, she'd grab it.

Zack would soon be arriving, so she quickly touched up her hair, mussed from pulling on the gown. Since she'd bought the dress for a Christmas party, she'd picked out a velvet wrap in a darker green to go with it, which would be welcome for the cool coastal evening. It clung sensuously to her skin.

Hmm. She turned back and forth in front of the mirror. A bit of jewelry, perhaps? No necklace, she decided, only Granddad's earrings.

Zack's rap at the door came as she was putting them on, and she hurried to let him in.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes widening as she looked him over. He was wearing formal clothes that fit so well they must have been tailored for him.

“You look wonderful,” he told her.

“Thanks. So do you.”

He was ignoring their previous argument, though he did ask if her doors and windows were locked.

“Of course they are,” Jamie answered sweetly, picking up her handbag and securing the front door, as well.

There was a BMW sports car in front of the house.

“That's my car, but I've been loaning it to Brad,” Zack said. “I told him I had to steal it back for the evening. I didn't tell him I was coming to get you. I just asked him and Kim to be at the restaurant for an eight o'clock reservation.”

“You're betting on the shock value to wake them up?”

“Might as well give it a shot.”

The posh car increased the elegant aura of the evening. Once at the restaurant, Zack turned the Beamer over to the parking valet—Brian wasn't working that station—and escorted her to double-wide mahogany doors with Sunfish Grotto carved into the rich wood. The doorman held the doors open, while a concierge inside asked if he could take her wrap. She slid it off and saw Zack's eyes widen as his gaze swept over her from head to toe.

“Wow” was his single comment, and Jamie restrained a smile as they walked through the foyer and into the restaurant.

As chic as the Clam Shell had been, the Sunfish Grotto overshadowed it. There were fountains and hidden lights, tables secluded by discreet plants, lit aquariums and architectural features. The dance floor was flanked by an aquarium filling an entire wall, with waving plants and lazy fish.

Zack saw her looking at it and said, “During the day it's lit from the top by natural light, as well.”

“It's beautiful.”

“So are you.”

A maître d' approached them. “Mr. Denning, your brother and Ms. Wheeler are already seated.”

“Thank you, Dennis,” Zack said. “May I introduce you to Jamie Conroe?”

“Very pleased to meet you, Ms. Conroe. Is this your first visit to the Sunfish Grotto?”

Jamie had a feeling he knew it was, but smiled anyhow. “Yes. Zack has been telling me how special it is, and now that I'm here, I can only agree.”

“Yes, miss. I hope you enjoy your visit. Let me show you to your table.”

Zack slid his arm around her waist as they followed the maître d', and a pleasant thrill went up her spine at his touch. Although they were playacting the “date” portion of the evening, Jamie could sense his pride at being her escort and a flash of old-fashioned feminine power went through her. It wasn't something she'd experienced in a while and she'd forgotten how fun it could be.

* * *

Z
ACK
WAS
STUNNED
as he walked with Jamie through the restaurant. He'd known she was pretty, even the first day they'd met, though it had been masked by a smart mouth, her oversize clothes and an obnoxious trailer. It wasn't long afterward that he'd recognized her sexy appeal and felt a growing desire. Now, seeing her in a sensuous gown intended to send a man's brain reeling in foggy appreciation, he wondered how many complex layers were beneath Jamie's surface. Why would she hide in overalls and sell strawberries over more glamorous pursuits? Of course, she'd probably accuse him of male stereotyping if he said anything.

“I hate to admit it,” Jamie said, glancing at the creamy linen and sparkling stemware, “but this place is even more than you described. I used to dream of living in a home where entire walls were aquariums, just like your dance floor.”

“You don't want that any longer?” he asked. If things had been different between them, he would have tried to convince her to forget dinner and spend the evening making love on the king-size bed in his apartment. Who needed food if you could have Jamie Conroe for every course from appetizers to dessert?

“No,” she said. “Aquariums are wonderful, but now I want lots of windows and access to the outdoors. It's lovely visiting a place like this, though.”

Zack blinked and dragged his thoughts away from his bedroom. They went around a row of plants and came to a private dining alcove created by walls of softly lit stained glass. An artistic mermaid on one side peered at a sunset on the other. Though it had added to the expense, Zack had asked the architect and interior designer to create numerous private spaces within the Grotto. Each was unique, and people were already reserving their favorites.

Kim saw them first, her eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. “Hello, Jamie.”

Brad looked at them also, his surprise more pronounced.

Zack pulled out a chair next to Kim's and held it for Jamie before seating himself. The maître d' bowed slightly and departed.

“I'm glad the two of you could have dinner with us,” Zack said, choosing his words carefully.

Brad's brow creased, but he said nothing while Zack and Jamie exchanged a look. The four of them studied the menus, yet before they could order, a wine steward brought a bottle to the table.

“This is the selection you made earlier, Mr. Denning. Is it still acceptable?” He showed Zack the label.

“It's fine. Brad, taste the wine, will you?” he asked. “I want to take Jamie to the dance floor and see if her gown twirls as well as it looks.”

“Of course,” his brother answered in a stiff voice.

“Is something wrong with Brad?” Jamie whispered as they retraced their earlier steps.

“I don't know. We haven't had a chance to talk much lately. Right now I'm hoping he's reassessing his assumptions about me and Kim.”

The band was playing one of Zack's favorite arrangements. It was an exquisite composition, yet he smiled humorously as he pulled Jamie into his arms.

“Is something funny?” she asked.

“Not really. The music is a piece I particularly like, that's all.”

“And that's amusing?”

“It's called
Air on G String
by Bach. My band director in high school thought it would get the boys interested in practicing more. Unfortunately, he didn't realize the parents of the teenage daughters would object.”

Jamie nodded. “Because it got the boys thinking about girls wearing G-strings.”

“You got it.” He gathered her closer. She was soft and silky and smelled faintly of lilacs. For a moment he had a peculiar conviction that he'd built the Grotto for the sole purpose of dancing with Jamie. Foolish, perhaps, but the Sunfish Grotto had been designed to create mood, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he'd been drawn under its spell.

* * *

B
RAD
SCHOOLED
HIS
EXPRESSION
,
but he was annoyed.

What was Zack doing, messing around with Jamie? Sure, play a game for the staff. Put on a good show for the town and even the tourists, but a romantic display in front of Kim? And what about Jamie—what if she got the wrong idea? She was probably too levelheaded, yet it still seemed unfair.

“Sir?” the wine steward said. He'd poured a glass of the wine and was waiting for approval.

“Oh.” Brad tasted the wine. “It has a sour taste. Is that normal for this particular vintage?”

The steward seemed startled. “No, sir, it is
not.
I'll take the bottle back and bring another.”

“It's good you tasted it instead of me,” said Kim when the steward had gone. “I'm not a connoisseur.”

“Neither am I, though Zack has tried to educate me. He doesn't drink much, but says he'd rather have one good glass than a bottle of anything lesser.”

Kim smiled. “My grandfather was an alcoholic, so I was always glad that neither of you were big drinkers.”

Brad remembered her talking about it one late night when he'd called and Zack was at work. She'd been sad over her grandfather's early death from years of alcohol abuse and he'd mostly listened, her voice a pleasant change from the loud chatter of the men in the recreation hall.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

She hesitated for an instant. “I'd love to.”

They made their way to the dance floor, where they saw Zack and Jamie turning slowly on the floor, along with two middle-aged couples.

“It's been years since I danced,” Brad said in a low voice.

“Me, too, but I suppose the band will survive.”

He held her carefully and moved onto the dance floor. She was obviously worried about whether the movements would hurt his leg, but the slow pace was comfortable.

“I'm not spun glass,” she teased after a couple of minutes. “You can hold me tighter.”

The words surprised Brad, along with the playful smile she cast at him. If he hadn't known better he would have said she was flirting. Hell, he was a lousy judge of women—it couldn't mean anything.

As they danced, Brad thought about switching partners to give Kim a chance to dance with Zack, but they didn't meet up in a way that made it possible. It was almost as if his brother was avoiding them on the dance floor. The band was starting a new piece of music by the time Brad was close enough to Zack to say anything.

“Zack, I shouldn't be selfish and keep Kim to myself,” he said in a casual tone. “And you shouldn't do the same with Jamie.”

A rueful expression crossed Zack's face, but he graciously bowed and agreed to the partner exchange.

“Have you figured out what to do about the fruit stand?” Brad asked Jamie after a moment.

“Yes,” she answered softly after casting a quick glance around, probably to see if there were listening ears. “I've installed security cameras with motion sensors. They should pick up anything that happens out there.”

“That's a good idea.”

He was relieved; Zack wouldn't feel he had to watch the stand with Jamie, and she'd be safe.

They danced in silence for a few rounds, then Jamie glanced over at Kim. She and Zack were chatting amiably.

“It's nice that Kim has been able to come to Mar Vista so often,” Jamie said. “She must enjoy it here, though seeing friends probably makes it even nicer.”

“Zack and Kim go way back,” he said.

“Hasn't she known you almost as long? Or maybe I misunderstood.”

It was true; he'd met Kim only a month after she and Zack became acquainted, but they'd met
because
she was dating his brother. Of course, they hadn't been a couple for a long time and...well, his friendship with Kim
had
survived on its own.

When the music ended, Zack reclaimed Jamie and they moved away. Kim regarded them with a pleased smile.